


Blessed

by Predec2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Could Be Canon, M/M, Romance, community: qaf_giftxchnge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 00:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17396570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Predec2/pseuds/Predec2
Summary: Brian uses his business acumen to set some plans in motion.





	Blessed

Set during the Stockwell period when Brian lost all his furnishings.  Does Brian decide his cup is half-empty or half-full?

 

* * *

  

DISCLAIMER:  QAF and its characters are the sole property of Showtime and Cowlip Productions.  No copyright infringement is intended.

 

* * *

 

  _Brian ponders his current situation and uses his advertising acumen to make a decision._

 

Set in Season 3, right after Brian lost his furnishings during the Stockwell event.

 

_Brian's Loft_

 

I shuffled out of the bathroom after taking a shower and relieving myself, wiping the sleep out of my eyes and yawning.  Scratching the top of my head, I stood in the doorway, my eyes drifting over to the slim figure burrowed under the duvet, his long, blond hair splayed across the pillow as he slept; Justin's blue peacoat, along with the rest of his clothes, were strewn over the chair nearby, along with the jeans I had worn when he had showed up at my loft yesterday. My heart skipped a beat as I thought about our activity last night; Justin had peered down into my eyes with those baby blue orbs of his before offering me a half-smile and leaning down to tenderly kiss me. From there, our passion had escalated from slow, gentle movements to frantic ones; almost as if Justin had known I needed it that way. That I needed something to anchor myself to; I needed to feel wanted and desired, and that material things weren't what made me the man that I had become. Justin alone was the one to show me that in his kisses, in his touches. He was the only one I felt comfortable confiding in about what I had done. I stopped and considered why I had felt the need to tell him; obviously, when those men showed up and began carting everything I owned away, I had to explain it to him somehow. I had momentarily scrambled for some other explanation, but in the end, I simply told him the truth; that I had used every bit of my credit card limits to help bring that bastard Stockwell down.

 

I walked over to the bed, and gingerly sat down next to my lover. I am constantly impressed by his fortitude, his conviction, and his passion for what he feels is right. It had taken a lot of bravery for him to come out to his classmates in high school, and to stand up to PIFA's ultimatum; not to mention surviving that awful night after his prom, and the injury he still borne to this day.  And the 'art' about Stockwell that had been plastered all over town; I knew immediately who had instrumented it.  No matter how different it might have been from what Justin normally produced, it still had his emotions, his beliefs, and his strength flowing through it, and it caused the same visceral reaction I always had to anything he created.

 

I sat there and continued to gaze at him, amazed at how the feisty, impulsive boy I had first been entranced by under a streetlight that night a few years ago had been transformed into an incredible man; a man I knew I was deeply in love with. It was a thought that both exhilarated me and scared the shit out of me.  But as I peered down at him, I knew I couldn't imagine him not being by my side, even at times when we found ourselves at odds with each other.  Justin always made me see things in a clearer light, and no one shone brighter than my Sunshine. I shook my head at the reference; Justin 'belonged' to no one.  But my heart belonged to HIM, and I was confident he felt the same about mine.  I snorted softly; at the moment, that was _all_ I could give him.  Most everything else had been taken away, except for the loft and the bed where Justin now lay oblivious to my presence.

 

I slowly arose from the side of the bed, careful not to wake him, as I turned and quietly trod down into the living area, the loft appearing even larger now that practically everything had been removed. I sighed; the only objects I had now were my desk, chair, and laptop. I was hanging onto my internet service by a thread; I expected any day that it, too, would be gone, just like the haze I had previously peered through to justify overseeing Stockwell's campaign ads by viewing him as merely a client and nothing else. Now the fog had been lifted, leaving me with a clearer view, but also nothing of material worth. What an irony.  For once in my adult life, I wasn't working or going to school, and it made me feel oddly lost and unsure of myself.

 

A few minutes later with my coffee mug in hand, I decided to check my email, sighing as everything was either spam or delinquent payment notices.  Sure enough, one of them advised me my internet would be disconnected in two days if I didn't remit payment.  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, raking my fingers through my hair.  What did I have left, except for perhaps my dignity and common sense?  In a way, it was a relief to not be tangled up in Stockwell's homophobic hatred and disregard for others that he displayed at every opportunity; but the advertising world was a close-knit group, and it wouldn't take long for every agency in the Pitts to know what had happened.  I knew a few would be impressed by my ingenuity in creating the ads that had ultimately left me jobless and virtually penniless; but most would see my deception as untrustworthy, making me a virtual pariah in their eyes.  No one, I suspected, would hire me to work for them; not now at least.  Not in this turbulent environment, and not knowing what I had done. But oddly I didn't regret it. Regrets weren't productive and didn't change the outcome. It only left you standing in one place, like a man sinking in quicksand.

 

I shook my head in disgust. _Enough of the self-pity, Kinney,_ I admonished myself. I knew I could either stand here, feeling foolish and making my dick soft, or I could do something more productive. After all, I hadn't become the advertising genius that I was by being a gawking bystander at a spectacle while others ran the show. I WAS the show. And while I was currently down on my luck - and my money - I still had connections. And the LAST thing I wanted to do right now was stay in my loft, holed up like a groundhog waiting for the spring thaw. I felt itchy to get out of here for a while, get out of the Pitts. My eyebrows rose as I considered some options, a smile curling my lips upward as I walked back over to the couch to pick my cellphone up from the coffee table nearby.

 

Punching in a number, I waited a few rings before the person on the other end picked up. "Jerry? I need a favor."

 

* * *

_~ Ten Minutes Later ~_

 

"Brian?"

 

Clad now in a pair of well-worn jeans, I turned away from the dresser drawers as my partner lifted his head from the bed, confusion written all over his face.

 

"What...what are you doing?" he asked me, his hair messy and his cheeks flushed from sleep-warmth.

 

"Where are your swim trunks, Sunshine?" I asked, the image of a scantily-clad certain blond coming to mind and instantly making my dick take notice.  Well, when it came to Justin, it didn't take much for my dick to do that, anyway, but I had seen him before in a royal-blue Speedo, and I couldn't get that picture out of my head; nor did I want to.

 

Justin frowned at me, wrinkling his nose like he always did when he was perplexed. "Huh?"

 

I snorted. "Glib as always," I said. "Oh, never mind. Where we're going you won't need them," I decided with a smirk, knowing that once he had them on, my sole objective would be to take them OFF. "Get that fine ass of yours out of bed and go take a shower. Plane leaves in three hours, and in this fucking weather, who knows how long it'll take to get to the airport?"

 

Now I had my lover's full attention as he sat up in bed, his mouth open as he watched me walk over to the closet to pull out his favorite piece of 'luggage':  his all-too familiar, hideous duffel bag; the bag he had somehow clung to like Linus and his security blanket ever since he had left home for the first time, and Jennifer had dumped it on my desk at work.

 

"What are you talking about?" Justin pressed me, the duvet falling down just below his waist as he sat up straighter.

 

I had to concentrate on the matter at hand as I replied, "We're going on a trip. A trip where I'll have Sunshine, with or without you," I quipped with a lopsided grin.  "Now get up, or you won't be going with me."

 

Justin was wide awake now as he slid out of bed, the duvet dropping to the floor. As he bent down and picked it up to lay it back on the bed, I had a perfect view of his best feature, and it made me salivate.  I couldn't help reaching over to grasp his waist as I pressed my body against his back, savoring the warmth of his skin. "You're distracting me," I murmured, kissing the back of his neck and feeling him shiver. "Not fair." I rolled my lips under as he stood up and turned around in my arms to face me.

 

"Not fair?  That's rich."

 

I winced briefly at the word _rich_.  "Well, that's the ONLY thing that's rich around here," I muttered before taking a deep breath and letting it out, forcing myself to focus on our objective. "Go, before you make me throw you back on the bed and fuck your brains out; or would you rather stay here in the cold and snow?" I asked, pecking him on the lips before heading back toward the closet.

 

He eyed me intently. "And just what is the alternative? I don't think I need to remind you of what you told me yesterday. Brian, I'm just a starving artist." I turned around and gave him an _'oh, really?'_ look as he amended his statement.  "Okay, maybe not starving; just a little hungry. Anyway, you're not exactly rolling in dough at the moment, either, so just how do you suggest we get away from the cold and snow?  Sunny Poughkeepsie?"

 

For just a moment, I missed that young teenager who would have practically jumped up and down as he squawked about where we were going.  Thoughts of the White Party flashed through my mind - the one that we never got to attend together - as I finally replied, "How about sunny Costa Rica?"  I knew if I didn't reveal at least part of my plans, we could be here all day. "But if you'd rather bare that ass in a snowdrift instead..."

 

My words finally sunk in as Justin's mouth hung open. "Costa Rica? COSTA RICA!!? Brian, you're shitting me, right?" He stood there with his hands on his hips, a mixture of hope but also doubt on his face.  "How? By flapping our wings? Hitching a ride in the fuselage?"

 

I shrugged. "Well, if you don't want to go..." I unceremoniously dropped Justin's duffel bag down onto the floor and pulled out my Armani carry-on to lay it on the bed.  "Hmm," I murmured, tapping my pointer finger placed against my lips as I pretended to ponder what to place in it from the dresser drawer. I retrieved a pair of my most revealing jocks and - carefully making a show of folding them neatly - placed them into my bag, along with some jeans and shirts that Justin called my 'fuckable club clothes;' some shorts and a pair of sandals followed. I grinned as I heard an indignant huff from behind me.

 

"Brian!  Come on!"

I turned around to peer into a pair of intense, blue eyes I knew so well, observing a flash of impatience on his face. "Look, I called in a few favors from one of my clients, including Liberty Air, and I cobbled together this trip.  After all, I may be broke, but my ingenuity is still intact." It took a few moments for that disclosure to sink in, but I could tell when it did by the change of expression on my partner's face. I watched as doubt was replaced with wonder and amazement, making me smirk. "So, what's it going to be, Sunshine? Sunshine here or Sunshine there?" I chuckled as he quickly launched himself into my arms, plastering his smaller body against mine as I reached to hold him steady. "I take it that's a yes, "I replied as he promptly peppered my face and neck with kisses.

 

"Yes! Yes! Fuck! You ARE serious!" he exclaimed as he pulled back from my chest to peer into my eyes. I smirked back at him as he suddenly unwrapped himself from me and began to frantically look around. "Shit! Daph and I haven't done laundry at all this week! What am I going to wear?"

 

I shook my head in amusement. Some things, at least, didn't change. "As soon as I'm packed, I'll drive you over to Daphne's and you can stuff your dirty duds into that fashionable bag you insist on holding onto. We'll wash them when we get there. Or better yet, we'll have a sacrificial burning of them, and buy you some new ones. Or even better, you can parade around in your birthday suit for all I care. After all, it has a private beach. And I'll be glad to rub some sunscreen all over your body to protect you," I told him huskily, my adrenaline rushing at the thought. I smiled as Justin's face suddenly flushed in response. I could still make him blush even now.

 

"Private beach? Really?" His eyes sparkled.

 

I sighed. "Yeah, a private beach. It's their company rental. Now will you PLEASE stop asking so many questions and get your ass in gear?"

 

* * *

_~Eight Hours Later~_

 

After a flight of approximately 4 1/2 hours, our private jet landed at the Iberia Airport, touching down away from the commercial aircraft. Having a private plane courtesy of my former client had been a nice perk; not only were we the only passengers on the plane, but we were able to fly nonstop from the Pitts to our destination, unlike the major airlines. Plus, it had a larger bathroom than commercial aircraft, which allowed for a roomy, mid-flight fuck to take the edge off my partner's constant knee-jiggling and nervous excitement over our destination. I had fucked him hard, grasping his hips to keep him tightly against me as we moved, and sure enough, soon afterward he had fallen into a drowsy state, leaning his head against my shoulder in his seat until the plane's landing had awakened him.

 

Like a little kid, Justin pressed his forehead against the window to peer out at the scenery; it really wasn't much different than any other tropical airport. The same concrete, the same asphalt runways, and a nondescript terminal. But palm trees dotted the surrounding lush landscape, and gentle mountains rose in the background. A bright sun held guard above us, and the difference between here and the Pitts was striking. "Wow," he murmured as he turned to flash me a big smile, causing me to grin back at him. "It's amazing how quickly you can go from freezing weather to something like this. I can't wait to do some exploring!"

 

As soon as the plane had come to a complete stop, we both stood up, stretching to straighten out the stiffness in our bodies from sitting so long. I rolled my lips under to hide my smile as I noticed Justin seemed a little sore in one particular area, causing him to glare at me. Soon we could hear the hum of the jet's stairs being lowered, and then the door being opened by the pilot. Thanking him and the flight attendant for their service, we eagerly ascended into the open air and both sighed in pleasure. Back in Pittsburgh, the weather had been cold, dreary, and a frigid 27 degrees. Here in our temporary home-away-from-home, however, it was sunny, breezy, and in the low 70s, according to our pilot.

 

With our carry-on luggage in hand, we headed toward a limousine parked approximately 25 feet away, the passenger door open and a uniformed, middle-aged man with a matching black cap standing by the entrance, waiting for us to enter.  His blond hair was bleached almost white, no doubt from the sun here, and was in stark contrast to his dark tan, his skin wrinkled from years of exposure. "Señors Kinney and Taylor?" he inquired politely as I nodded back at him; even though it appeared the man was not a native Costan Rican, there was still the hint of a Spanish accent in his voice. "This way, por favor. I am to take you to your lodging for your stay."

 

"Holy shit!" Justin exclaimed as we climbed into the stretch vehicle and looked around. "I can't believe this! He must have really owed you some big favors." He peered over at me and narrowed his eyes as I explained hurriedly, "He's married and has five kids, Justin. And he's 62 years old. It wasn't THAT kind of favor. I've worked on several of Liberty Air's campaigns; sometimes for 60 or 70 hours a week, and we share a lot of the same interests. I directed a commercial shoot for him a few years back pro bono, and now he's just returning the favor."

 

Justin nodded as he explored every nook and cranny of the vehicle, finding a couple of bottles of Pilsen beer to toast our adventure. The time seemed to fly by as we sat together, making out like two horny teenagers (well, Justin wasn't too far removed from that, anyway), kissing and groping each other until we felt the limo coming to a halt. Somewhat disappointed that we could only do some serious necking, I was still just as curious as Justin to see what our accommodations would be like. Knowing it was a corporate rental provided to Liberty Air's best sponsors and Board members, though, I figured it would be nice, and, of course, the private beach Jerry had told me about was an added bonus.  All I knew was that it faced the water, and it was quiet and secluded.

 

I slipped the limo driver a tip - which he instantly returned, explaining that all the expenses, including gratuities, were being handled by Liberty Air - before he tipped his cap politely and soon drove away, leaving Justin and me the opportunity to examine our temporary digs for the first time. The stark whiteness of the exterior and the stucco-red roof stood out dramatically against the verdant greenery surrounding the home. A circular staircase from two sides led up to the main entrance from the parking area, and the home - two stories tall - was situated on a hill. I couldn't wait to see what the view looked like as we carried our luggage up to the door, and - using the key code Jerry had given me - I opened the lockbox hanging on the doorknob and pushed it open.

 

We both stood there in shock.  This was no cottage or thatched hut; it was clean, bright, and sleek. Dark, aromatic wood that smelled like cedar covered the floors, shining under the two-story windows that faced out the back side. Another twin spiral staircase led to the second floor. In the sunlight, everything - the modernistic sculpture, glazed pottery, and the polished, marble floor - shone like crystals on fallen snow. "Wow, Jerry really knows how to do things right," I murmured.  "Thanks, in part, to his advertising revenue and the genius who created it, no doubt," I added, expecting Justin to roll his eyes at my comment. But I smiled as I turned to look at him, observing his eyes fixated instead on the incredible view that could be seen through the rear, soaring windows.

 

Before we could move, I heard footsteps coming from a hallway to our left as a tall, slim man - dressed in casual, khaki-colored slacks and a colorful, tropical-style shirt - appeared and walked toward us with a smile. "Señor Kinney, Señor Taylor?" he asked as I nodded. "Welcome to the Toucan," he announced as he gestured with his hands at the residence. "My name is Stewart Grayson.  I'm the manager for the home and grounds here."

 

"Brian," I told him as we shook hands. "And this is my partner, Justin Taylor." Justin flushed at the word _partner_ , even though I was getting better at saying the word out loud. But as he shook hands with the other man, I could tell the word still affected him.

 

"My pleasure to meet you both," Grayson told us. "I live in a small cottage near the edge of the estate," he explained. "I will be happy to provide any sort of item you need, including cocktails, meals, or any travel arrangements you wish. I will be here as little or as often as you desire. There is a buzzer near the side entrance where I can be summoned at any hour," he advised us. "May I take your bags upstairs? You must be tired after your flight. Or perhaps you would like some light refreshments?"

 

I shook my head, noticing Justin's fascination on what he could see of the view outside; I knew he must be dying to go take a peek.  "No, I think we're fine for now," I told him as he nodded.

 

"Well, I will be at the cottage if you need anything," he reiterated. "The pantry and bar are fully stocked, by the way, so please help yourself to anything you wish."  I nodded back in acknowledgement as he turned to leave. "I hope you enjoy your stay, gentlemen, and please ring me if I am needed."

 

"Thank you," I told him as he turned and headed toward the side of the home. As soon as Justin and I heard him close the door, we both dropped our bags onto the floor as, sure enough, Justin immediately exclaimed, "Let's go out on the balcony!" I grinned with a nod at his child-like enthusiasm, hurrying to keep up with him as he scurried through the grand foyer and directly toward a set of double glass doors that led out to a sienna-colored, brick patio outlining the perimeter of a swimming pool. Several, white, padded lounge chairs were set up to enjoy the view, the semi-circle shape of the patio echoing the curved architectural lines of the house itself. I heard Justin gasp when he opened the doors and stepped outside. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed as he quickly hurried over to the edge to take a better look. The patio was surrounded with palm trees and other types of tropical flowers and plants, their aroma providing a sweet scent in the air. Between the tall palms, a view of turquoise-green waters could be seen, along with mountains in the background. Directly below was, indeed, a private beach, made so by curves in the sand that provided complete seclusion due to the high cliffs dotted with lush vegetation. Large boulders stuck out of the coastline, the waves presently at low-tide, but still clearly heard from where we were standing.

 

I could practically hear the artistic wheels churning in Justin's head as I walked over to where he was standing and placed my hands on his shoulders from behind. Over the years, I had seen numerous cities and other countries while on business, but I had to admit that this place would have to be toward the top of the list. I leaned down to brush my lips against Justin's neck as he leaned back, my arms lowering to slide around his waist as I heard him say, "Brian, this is fucking amazing." The warm, salty breeze caressed my face as I nodded.  "I'm glad I brought my sketchpad," he added as I grinned. To Justin, his sketchpad was like having another extremity; he took it everywhere, telling me that one never knew when an opportunity would arise to draw something new that inspired him. As I looked at the sweeping, magnificent vista in front of us, I was sure he would be doing a LOT of sketching. In between other pleasurable activities, of course.

 

I turned him around in my arms as he smiled up at me, making my heart skip.  I would never grow old of that look on Justin's face that he only reserved for me.  It was hard to describe it adequately, but I it was always one that included love and adoration.  For me. For someone I never thought could actually be loveable.  That is, until Justin showed me the true meaning of what partners could be. Of what being in love could be. It was the only way I could properly explain it. I leaned down to gently brush my lips across his as I whispered, "Let's go find our bedroom."

 

He grinned as I took his hand and he reluctantly turned to head back inside the house. Picking up our bags, we climbed the spiral staircase in search of the bedroom best suited for us. There were several; after all, Liberty's vacation home was designed for multiple guests at a time, but it didn't take us long to find the one for us: it was right in the middle of the second floor, and had another, curved-but-smaller balcony than the one directly below it. Its higher elevation, however, provided an even better panoramic view of the ocean, beach, and mountains, and from the sun's place above us, I suspected it would also entertain us with some spectacular sunsets. The wet bar located in a corner of the balcony didn't hurt, either. There was a rectangular table and two chairs set up for eating or enjoying a drink. The bedroom itself had a king-sized bed and an attached bathroom with a rainforest shower even larger than mine back home.  Yep. It had all the necessities we needed when we weren't busy doing other things.

 

After putting away our clothing in the dresser and wardrobe, instead of promptly christening our bed properly, Justin persuaded me to head down to the beach, accessible by a set of steep stairs winding from the side of the home to the sand below.

 

Once there, it took only a few seconds before both of us had removed our shoes and socks to feel the warmth of the fine, light-brown sand underneath us.  I peered out at the endless, turquoise water and heard the relaxing rhythm of the waves ebbing in and out of the shoreline, feeling all the troubles and pressure at home starting to melt away. I looked over at Justin, my heart full, as I reached my hand out to clasp his; almost of one accord, we began to languidly walk along the edge of the water, occasionally laughing as we had to scurry away from some of the stronger waves, or stopping to pick up a shell to examine it. Finally, we reached the end of one side of the beach and just stood there, in awe of the breathtaking beauty all around us. I placed my arm around Justin's shoulders as we both faced the placid water, its waves gently brushing against the sand. The regular swish of the waves and the salt water was so soothing but also invigorating. My spirit began to soar, along with the birds that flew overhead and skimmed lowly over the water, searching for their next meal. I sighed in contentment as Justin snuggled closer into my side. "Fuck, I needed this," I murmured. "This is amazing."

 

"Amazing doesn't begin to describe it," Justin agreed as I smiled, leaning down slightly to kiss him on the nose. I had noticed how much warmer and intense the sun felt here - even more than in the stifling summers of the Pitts - as I realized if we stayed out in the sun too much longer, Justin, especially, would look like a lobster soon. Glancing over at a shaded area near the stairs that had several chaise lounges set up, I replied, "Let's get out of the sun."

 

Reluctantly, Justin agreed as - hands swinging gently between us - we headed over to the thickly-padded furniture, sheltered by some large palm trees in addition to a thatched hut with walls on three sides, offering even more privacy than before. As Justin moved to sit down next to me, I tugged on his arm and with a slight whoosh of air from my partner, he landed right where I wanted: on top of me.

 

He laughed at me. "Brian!"

 

I tucked my tongue in my cheek as he smiled at me.  "Why be greedy, Sunshine?" I explained as I pulled his head down to kiss him thoroughly, Justin eagerly joining in after a few seconds, our tongues enjoying a workout as the kisses deepened and inflamed our passion. The lounge chair, fortunately, was so wide that it made turning on our sides simple, as well as making it easier for us to unbutton each other's shirts as we continued to kiss. Our hands roamed over each other's chests as we managed somehow to remove our shirts completely and let them fall to the sand; after unsnapping our jeans, we both took a few moments to stand up and quickly dispose of the rest of our clothing, my heart thumping as I saw Justin standing on the other side of the lounge naked, his desire for me readily apparent. No matter how many times I experienced seeing Justin in all his glory, it always made me hard, of course; but it also made me appreciate his beauty, both inside and out.  And, shit, his hair! I loved how he had let it grow out, and I loved to play with it and wind my fingers through it. At that moment, even with what awaited me back in Pittsburgh, I considered myself one of the luckiest men on Earth.  Rooting out a couple of condoms and a small tube of lube from my jeans pocket, I lay down on the lounge as I huskily commanded, "Come here."

 

Justin smiled at me and moved closer to drape his body over mine, our hands twining together above our heads as we continued to kiss, our cocks rubbing together and making me gasp. I tore my lips away from his as I moaned out, "Justin..."  Fuck, I couldn't even get the words out; I was quickly getting overheated, and not from the sun. At least, not THAT sun. But fortunately, my own version of Sunshine understood what I wanted as he rose to sit up, his knees on either side of my legs as his hands began to roam over my nipples to tease the supersensitive buds before they lightly traveled down my chest to rest just about my rock-steel cock. "Justin..." I warned him, knowing I was close to sounding almost desperate from his teasing. "Fuck!"  I yelled out as he grasped my cock with his right hand and leaned down to blow on the tip. "Oh, shit, Justin, get on with it!" I roared, unmindful of whether anyone could hear us or not.

 

He grinned at me smugly before he moved to grab the condom packet lying beside us on the lounge and - swiftly removing it from the package - slid it down my throbbing dick.  As I watched Justin prepare himself with lubed fingers, I thought I would come any second if he didn't do something until I saw him rise up to position himself, guiding my dick with one hand before he slowly impaled himself at last. Savoring the familiar warmth as he sensuously began to move up and down, bracing himself on my chest, I moaned loudly now as he began to slowly increase his rhythm, my fingers digging into his ass cheeks and my heart racing as he continued to ride me. As he expertly stroked my cock in time with his movements, it didn't take long for either of us to climax.

 

As we lay there side-by-side from our high a few moments later, straining to regain our breathing back to a normal rhythm, I realized that only Justin could make me feel the way I did after we fucked. And I acknowledged the reason why, too, somewhere in the back of my brain, but I wasn't quite ready yet to verbalize that, or even think too hard about it. All I knew as I turned us to spoon up against his back, both of us sticky and sweaty, I felt at peace for the first time in a long time, and it wasn't too long before the gentle splashing of the waves and the cries of the seabirds lulled us both to sleep.

 

* * *

 

It was approximately 4:00 a.m. the next morning when I was rudely awakened by a poke to my side. "Oww!" I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand table in the bedroom. "What in the hell, Justin? Do you know what time it is?"

 

"Don't you hear that?" he asked me, holding onto me so tightly I could barely breathe.

 

I rolled my eyes, hearing only typical night sounds of the tropics: frogs, lizards.  "It's nothing but your imagination!" Now go back to sleep!"  But no sooner were the words out of my mouth than I heard this awful sort of caterwauling; a low-sounding, guttural growl unlike anything I had ever heard before.  "What the fuck IS that?" I asked as I pried Justin off me as much as possible.

 

"See, I TOLD you!  Go shut the doors!" he demanded. "Whatever it is, I don't want it in here!"

 

"I don't know how I got THAT responsibility, but since I agree with you, I'll do it anyway."  I snickered as Justin snatched the duvet away from me and wrapped it protectively around his body as if it were chainmail. Rolling my eyes, I shuffled out of bed and walked carefully over to the open balcony doors, the horrendous sound becoming louder and louder.  It was obvious that there was more than one of the creatures; in fact, it sounded like an entire herd of them.

 

"Don't go out there!" Justin yelled as I crept closer to the open doors, unable to resist a peek outside. Since it was nowhere near sunrise, however, I couldn't make out the source in the darkness. I winced as the cacophonous noise continued and quickly closed and locked the doors, the muffled sound growing in intensity for approximately 30 minutes before it abruptly stopped, causing both Justin and me to sigh in relief.  It was only later in the day after we discussed it with Stewart that we found out we had experienced our first encounter with the howler monkey, indigenous to Costa Rica. After realizing it wasn't some flesh-eating cannibal or a tropical version of the Yeti, however, Justin made it his mission to see one in person and to his delight, he saw several a few days later, swinging through the many trees that populated the grounds.  It took a few days, but after that we grew used to their sounds, and with an assurance from Stewart that they couldn't reach the balcony, we kept the doors open as we slept.

 

And then there were the birds; brightly-colored macaws and toucans everywhere, loudly announcing their location as Justin rushed to capture them in his sketches; even I rediscovered my love of photography, making good use of my old Pentax to take numerous pictures of the flora and fauna, the rainforest, volcanos, and the glorious sunrises and sunsets we saw every day and night. We delighted in how magnificent the birds and animals were in their natural habitat, instead of in a cage somewhere.

 

During the next week, I found out just how adventurous my partner could be.  I knew he could be inhibited when it came to sex - and God knows we had plenty of that in spades while luxuriating in our own, private piece of paradise - but I had no idea just how much of a risk taker he was. Thanks to his curiosity - and constant pleading with those baby blues - I not only learned how to zipline in the rainforest, but Jerry had made sure we had every sort of water toy we could imagine at our disposal, including snorkeling equipment. The fish beneath the clear, sparkling water as we paddled around with our gear were bountiful as well as colorful, and both Justin and I spent a lot of time pointing out this fish or that, amazed by their brilliant hues.  It was like living in a gigantic aquarium, and the water temperature was perfect.  

 

Not to mention the jet skis. Holy shit! What a rush! Those babies could move! Justin probably spent more time in the water during our initial ride than on the actual jet ski, but he caught on quickly and we both enjoyed it immensely.  The smell of the saltwater in the air, and the warm breeze and mist whipping around my face made me feel euphoric, and we had constant smiles on our faces each time we went for a ride.

 

Many days, as I worked on my tan, I watched underneath my sunglasses as Justin sat nearby in a beach chair under the thatched shelter, sketching away at either the scenery, me, or both.  After all, it wasn't every day that he could take advantage of sketching me totally nude outside the loft, and in a tropical setting to boot.  I drew the line, however, when he wanted me to mount a horse without at least my jeans on; there was a stable on the outskirts of the property where four horses were boarded for guests to ride. I had promptly told my partner that I didn't ride bareback on any ass, including the horse's. After a little pouting and a muttered, "Well, Lady Godiva did it," he eventually settled with riding behind me on the same horse, clutching my shirt around the waist in a tight vise as we slowly traveled around the property and then rode down alongside the shoreline.  When the sun began to set a short time later, he insisted on my posing for him as I sat on the horse in jeans and barefoot, the pink and purple sky awe-inspiring and so beautiful, it was almost indescribable.

The sunrises each day were just as spectacular; enough to rouse even Justin from his morning slumber. To my astonishment, he set the bedside alarm to go off promptly at 5:50 a.m. each day, so he could walk out onto our suite's balcony to watch the glorious splashes of color that rose from the left as the sun peeked out from behind one of the mountains off in the distance. Of course, afterward I would come out and take my sleepy partner - and his omnipresent sketchpad and pencil - back to bed for a couple more hours of sleep, followed by some fucking and a nice, warm shower or a jump in the jacuzzi with him, followed by more fucking. Not a bad way to wake up at all.

 

And one morning, even _I_ stayed awake long after sunrise to watch a pod of humpback whales dancing in the waves, both of us awestruck by how large and majestic they were.  From our bedroom balcony, we had a perfect vantage point for a once-in-a-lifetime event.

 

Our host, Stewart, was true to his word, only communicating with us when we requested something or needed information; all other times, he respected our privacy and was the pinnacle of discretion.  We did decide after that first night that we weren't very familiar with the food in the kitchen, so Stewart began to prepare meals for us, and then would promptly leave us alone.  We discovered the joys of fried plantains, Gallo Pinto for breakfast, and the Casados that were created for us, reveling in all the various dishes that Stewart presented to us as he identified each one.  And at last, I finally found out just how great fresh guava juice was, and we looked forward to the amazing coffee that was freshly ground for us each morning before we arose as I resolved to take back a large supply when we left to go back to the Pitts. We had our fill of all the tropical fruit we could handle, including papayas and bananas among others.

 

I laughed one evening at Justin's reaction to drinking his first Chili Guaro, made from undiluted cane sugar, tomato juice, lime, and hot sauce.  My laughter ceased, however, as I took my own shot and discovered why it was called a fiery drink; I hurriedly gulped down all the water in my glass and made sure going forward to enjoy the tamer version as Justin snickered and I glared back at him.

 

And, yes, I _did_ get to slather Justin all over with sunscreen whenever we went down to the beach, several times.  After all, I couldn't let the lad get sunburned.

 

* * *

 

That final day, we stood on the lower balcony, listening to the waves of the high-tide crashing against the large boulders that dominated the coastline, both of us trying to memorize the sights and smells that we would soon leave behind.  In an hour, the limousine would be arriving to take us back to the airport, and back to our lives as they really were.  Back to cold reality.

 

I had my arms wrapped around Justin's body from behind as I held him close, both of us silently admiring what had been our home for the past week." This has been so fucking amazing," I murmured against his cheek, brushing my lips across his skin as I pulled us even closer together.  Justin's blond hair was even blonder now, having been exposed to the sun for the past week, and it shone brilliantly in the early afternoon rays.

 

 

"Yeah," Justin agreed softly.  "Brian?"

 

"Hmm?" I responded, feeling so calm after a week of paradise with the man that I loved.  It didn't get any better than this.

 

"You know, with as big as this place is, you could have flown down several of our friends to spend time here, too."

 

"Yeah, it's certainly large enough," I agreed. "But I didn't WANT to spend time with them. I wanted to relax and decompress - alone with _you_."

 

There was a silence for several seconds before I heard a soft "thank you" in reaction.

 

"For what?" I asked.  I felt like I should be the one thanking HIM for sticking by me through this entire fiasco.  At least I knew Justin wasn't staying for my money; not that I ever thought that.  But if anything would prove it, this would have been the ultimate test. And here he was, still by my side.

 

"For bringing me here. To this paradise. For sharing it with me. I'm so lucky."

 

I smiled as Justin placed his hands over mine. "No. I'm the lucky one. I realized something while I was here. Yeah, I have shit for money right now. But what is most important to me I have in spades; my friends, my son...and you." As Justin turned in my arms to face me with the brightest of smiles and a look of love in his watery eyes, I leaned down and kissed him tenderly before whispering, "I'm not defeated, Justin. I'm blessed."


End file.
